Infinite Beths
by Iruka Sensei871
Summary: After Rick and Beth are abducted Beth is left with the task of rescuing herself and her wounded father. The beautiful stranger on the ship might help her, but at what price? Beth/female OC Rated for language. I don't own Rick and Morty, and I won't make any money off this story.
1. Chapter 1

Blitz and Chitz was shiny, fun, and happy – completely unlike the Smith family's life. Rick watched Morty and Summer playing an arcade game. It bored Rick, but the kids liked the bright lights and loud noises, and it distracted them from their father's absence, if they cared at all. He wasn't sure that they did, and he wouldn't blame them if they never missed Jerry. He certainly wouldn't.

Rick took a long drink of vodka from his flask. Other Ricks were doing the same, and a few waited in line for the Roy machine.

The kids seemed to be having fun. _Children are so resilient,_ he thought. _Good thing too. I need to get back to work._

A Rick brought in a Jerry and headed toward Jerry Day Care. _Idiot Jerry,_ Rick thought. _I can't believe he caused me so much trouble. Why couldn't Beth have married someone useful? A physicist or even a geologist would have been useful. Could use a geologist on an alien planet. Most boring scientific discipline ever, but useful._

He looked around for Beth. There were no Beths here, not from his universe or any other. He'd seen the rare one occasionally. Beth was a constant, just like the rest of the family. Jerry ruined things, Morty was his shield, Summer was an annoying but intelligent teenage girl that occasionally proved to be a useful low level lab assistant, and Beth was the stable one with the house, the one that failed at life. It was how things worked in almost every dimension.

But not this one. The Beth in this dimension had died, which was unusual, and Summer seemed unusually intelligent and head-strong. Beth seemed different in this dimension as well, but he wasn't sure it was in a good way. She really lost the lottery on her Jerry. They were almost always useless, but her's was one of the most pathetic Jerry's he'd ever met.

Beth seemed more alert in this universe. She was a drunk, just like every other Beth, but she was sharp, like Summer. He had the feeling that she could have been more than the average Beth.

Rick took another long pull on his flask, turning it up to get the last of the vodka.

"Alright kids, I'm out of l…urp…liquor. It's time to go," Rick said.

"Aw, do we have to?" Morty said. "I'm winning."

"You are not," Summer said.

"I'm going to find your m…mother," Rick said. "I'll be back. Just s…stay out of trouble."

Morty and Summer ignored him as they began to play again.

Rick knew where she'd be. He left the bright lights of Blitz and Chitz and went next door to one of the few other businesses on the asteroid, a large and yet still dingy building with no sign. It didn't need one. A bar was a bar on any planet, and any Beth could always find a bar.

It was dark and smoky inside, with the typical bar look – pool table, bar with annoyed bartender, chatter and bad jukebox music. He wondered if the blob of blue goo on the floor near the bar was alien blood or just a spill no one had bothered to clean up.

He was the only Rick in the room, which wasn't surprising. None of the other Ricks drank like he did, at least none he'd ever met. _Sheep don't need to forget that they're sheep,_ he thought. _It's the rams locked in with them that need something to help them through the day._

He took a pull at his flask, only to remember that he'd run out.

Most of the people in the room wore Blitz and Chitz uniforms. _If I had to cater to kids all day I'd be in here all the time too._

Beth was at the bar. He saw her from behind, but he could tell from her slumped posture that she was depressed. He couldn't see her face in the bar with her head hung low. She didn't look up or she would have seen him in the mirror.

He groaned. _I do not want to deal with her whiny ass,_ he thought. He decided to play a game of pool instead and deal with her later. The kids could wait.

Beth on the other hand was trying to forget her life and decide how to change it at the same time.

She looked down at her half full glass of wine, marred with a dark red lipstick stain. She wasn't wearing lipstick. Beth wiped the stain off with a napkin and downed the glass in one long gulp. She signaled the bartender for another when she noticed a woman in the mirror.

She was standing about 5 feet behind Beth, watching her. She was wearing a tight brown leather outfit with yellow goggles and thigh high yellow boots, with a hood drawn over her head, pulled down to hide the left half of her face. Beth stared at her. She couldn't make out her features, and the effect of the hood and goggles made her look almost insectoid.

A young woman was with her, obviously fearful and glancing between Beth and the newcomer.

"Well, imagine meeting you here," the woman said. The last time Beth had heard that voice it had been warm and comforting, but now it was harsh and sarcastic.

"Mom?" Beth asked the leather-wearing woman. "But you're dead."

Beth wasn't stupid, but she was drunk, which amounted to the same thing. If she was sober she would have noticed the reserve and distrust in her mother's voice.

"You shouldn't be here. You're meant to stay on Earth."

"What? You've been gone since I was 15 and that's all you have to say? Where have you been?"

"Wherever I wanted to go," her mother said. "I'd ask where you've been, but I know. There are millions, billions, who knows how many Beth Sanchez, and they all live the same basic life. All failed medical personnel of some sort, all married to a useless drip of a man, and all _terrestrial."_ She spat the word as if it were a curse.

"I'm not a failed medical person," Beth said.

"Ha! You'd be the first Beth not to be," her mother said. "I've tracked so many of you all over the universes, Beth, and I've only met a few that made it into space, and none of them did much with their lives. I never met one that left Earth unless Rick took her. How did you get here?"

"But why did you leave?" Beth asked, ignoring the question.

"Isn't it obvious?" her mother asked. "To get away from you."

"Then why did you track me?" Beth asked. "You must love me to have followed me like that. You do love me, don't you?"

Her mother laughed and pulled out a gun. It was an odd, silver gun like Beth had never seen.

"If I loved you I wouldn't have traveled through the universes killing all of your other mothers," she said.

Beth looked in disbelief at the gun. "Mom? But…"

"I can't have you giving away my secrets," her Mother said.

Beth closed her eyes, tensing for the pain that she knew was about to come. She expected the sound of a bullet, but instead she the sound of a scuffle, and then the sharp buzz and pop of a laser gun.

She opened her eyes and saw her father between her and her mother.

"Miranda?" Rick asked, his voice husky and strained. He fell to the floor on his knees, and Beth saw that her Mother was holding the gun at stomach level. She hit Rick in the head with the butt, knocking him out.

Beth bent and opened Rick's shirt, ignoring her Mother as she checked Rick's wound. Blood began to flow. _Lasers shouldn't cause bleeding. The wound should have been cauterized,_ Beth thought, and she suddenly felt even more lost. She had no idea how anything worked away from Earth, or what sort of projectile had caused the wound.

"Well, that's unfortunate," Miranda said. "It would have to _my_ Rick, wouldn't it? None of the others could have seen me. I made a camo screen so they couldn't."

"Mom! How could you?"

Her mother pushed her out of the way and pulled a small tube out of her purse.

"Oh, don't be such a drama queen," she said. She pulled the cap off and shook it, spraying a stream of a pungent, oily substance onto the wound, which stopped bleeding. "If it didn't hit any organs he'll be fine – probably."

Beth stood, her fists clenched. "I don't know what's going on here, but I want some answers!"

Her mother rolled her eyes. "You're still as annoying as I remember," she said, before striking Beth across the side of the head with the gun.

Beth woke in a sparsely furnished room, with two beds and odd equipment that she assumed was for medical use. She wasn't sure. She didn't see anything like an IV drip, but a strip of metal across Rick's head showing a pulse as well as other vitals. A ball hung suspended in the air with needles sticking out of it, and she could tell that there were cabinets, but she saw no handles of any kind.

She had been left unrestrained, but Rick was handcuffed to the bed. _She isn't taking any chances,_ Beth thought. When she checked his pulse, Rick's eyes opened slightly, and he looked at her in drugged confusion. Beth wondered what her mother had given him.

"Beth?"

"I'm here Daddy."

His eyes closed again, and Beth began to search the room. The door was locked from the outside, which wasn't surprising.

Beth heard someone unlocking the door from the outside, and she stepped in front of Rick protectively. Her mind raced, but she couldn't think of anything to do.

She was both relieved and disappointed when it wasn't her mother who opened the door. Instead a young woman with wide, frightened eyes entered the room. She was thin, with a pixie haircut and a round face and soft green eyes that made her seem approachable.

"Oh," the woman said. "I don't think you should be out of bed so soon."

Beth stepped toward her with her fists clenched. "All I wanted was to be with my family, and I've lost my husband, my children, and my father is injured. What's going on…" Beth looked at the nametag. "Parabola?"

"I don't know anything about that," Parabola asked. "Captain Miranda just told me to look after you. I don't know her plans."

"Captain Miranda?" Beth said. "You mean my Mother?"

"I don't know. She the Mother to _a_ Beth, but I don't know that it's you. There are an infinite number of Beths."

"What does that even mean?"

"There are just infinite Beths," Parabola said. "It's just how the universe works."

Beth glanced past Parabola toward the open door, and she considered pushing past her, but she couldn't leave her father behind.

"That doesn't answer my question. Why did she shoot my father and hit us both in the head and bring us here?"

"Well," Parabola said, glancing toward Rick. "I know who he is. The Captain was angry about being found out. She didn't say anything about you."

Beth felt tears welling up in her eyes. "Nothing?" she asked.

"No," Parabola said, "but she wasn't here long. There was something she had to take care of."

"What was more important than dealing with family that she shot and abducted?" Beth snapped.

"I don't know. She doesn't tell me things when emergencies are happening, just gives directions."

"Great. So you're useless."

Parabola looked down. "Don't say that," she said. "It isn't my fault that I'm here. No one tells the Captain no."

"So you're here against your will? That's just great. Is anyone here willingly?"

"Her crew – some of them," Parabola said. "They needed a medical person, so they just took me." She looked at Beth with pleading eyes. "If you're her daughter, can you help me?"

"Why should I help you?" Beth asked.

Beth's mother stepped into the room. "Yes, why should you?" She glared at Parabola. "What have you been telling her?"

"N…nothing ma'am," Parabola said. "I was just…"

"I know what you were "just", Miranda said. "Get out. I'll call you if I need you."

"Yes ma'am," Parabola said, and she hurried out. Beth heard her shoes clicking on the floor outside, and she wondered how she hadn't heard her mother.

Miranda walked to Rick on boots with sound muffling soles, ignoring Beth. She looked down over him and chuckled. "Not how I thought it would happen."

"How what would happen?" Beth asked.

"Hmmm? Are you still here?"

"Yes I'm still here! What happened to you?"

Her mother turned to Beth and looked at her silently for a full half minute, until Beth looked away in embarrassment.

" _He_ happened," Miranda said. "That's all you need to know. I couldn't get away from either of you."

"But you did," Beth said. "I need to know what happened. I had to live with Aunt Erma since I was 15. Dad left and didn't come back for 20 years."

"You did alright though," Miranda said. "You're not a failure at all, are you? I mean, you're a successful surgeon with a good husband and happy home life, and not at all a medical flop with a _Jerry_."

"I…"

"That's what I thought. It's all your fault."

"What's my fault?" Beth asked.

"This," Miranda said. She pulled back her hood to reveal a disfigured face. Half of her face was still attractive, with long, flowing hair and a blue eye. The other half of her face was a scarred mess, with a cloudy white eye. Her hair was completely gone on that side, and her scalp had the same red blotchy scarring.

"I didn't do that!" Beth said.

The hateful look Miranda shot at Beth withered her soul. "You really don't remember do you?" she asked.

"Remember what?" Beth asked. "Say something I can understand, for God's sake!"

"You were the worst thing that ever happened to me," Miranda said. "You worthless…"

"Stop," Rick said.

Beth and Miranda both looked toward him. His eyes were clear and his voice strong.

"How are you even awake?" Miranda asked. "I shot you up with enough drugs to drop a horse."

Rick laughed. "Yeah. Th…thanks' for the hook-up, but I have more tolerance than most Clydesdales. Now leave my daughter alone. None of this is her…urp…fault."

"Oh really?" Miranda said. She pointed to her ruined face. "I know that it was your chemicals, but she was the one that…"

"Stop!" Rick yelled. "Your problem is with me! I didn't even k…know there was a problem. I saw your corpse. What happened?"

"You saw what I wanted you to see," Miranda spat.

"Let me out of these chains!" Rick said. "This is insane!"

Miranda laughed. "You're one to talk about sanity. If it wasn't for your insane research none of this would have happened."

She pulled her gun and put it to Rick's head. "I ought to kill you for what you did to me."

Rick snarled at her. "Do it! Do it you fucking b…urp…bitch!"

She lowered the gun. "Who am I kidding? As if I could ever kill you."

"You gave it your best shot earlier," Rick said.

"That was a reflex," Miranda said. "I couldn't really kill you. You had to become suddenly paternal and get yourself injured."

"Oh, now you're going to get all…urp…emotional on me?" Rick asked. "You weren't unstable when you were y…younger."

Miranda laughed. "Is that what you think? I can't kill you because I need you to reverse the process you began. I still don't know what was in that beaker, but it changed me. I'm keeping you alive to fix me, and then I can kill you."

"Ah, now it makes more sense," Rick said. "I've dealt with people like you before. I just don't understand how my sweet little h…h…housewife turned into such a colossal bitch."

Neither of them noticed the sobs escaping their daughter as Beth buried her head in her hands, but Beth felt a hand squeeze her shoulder. She opened her eyes to see Parabola's own expressive face. "I don't think they'd notice if we left," she said. "Let's get some coffee."

Beth had seen only a tiny bit of life outside of Earth, and she gawked at everything they passed.

"Somehow I thought a spaceship would be cleaner," she said. The metal walls were tarnished and stained, and the floor was strewn with bits of litter. Lights flickered overhead, and a sour garbage smell filled the air.

"It wasn't like this when we took the ship," Parabola said, "but the Captain likes to have as few crew as possible. I guess no one really cares enough to clean the place."

They reached a cafe. "I guess these are the same all over," Beth said. It looked more like a school cafeteria than a cafe, and it seemed as if it might have been built to serve dozens of people.

Parabola bought them both tubes with a brown liquid, which she pulled from a shelf on the wall that held various tubes and packages.

Parabola took two cups, shook the tubes, and cracked them. The brown liquid poured into the cups and somehow filled them almost to the brim, making twice as much as Beth saw in the tubes.

 _Everything is different here,_ she thought.

She took a sip of the hot "coffee" only to find that alien coffee had a bit of a sour taste. She sipped it anyway, so she could focus on something.

When she put the cup down Parabola took her hands in her own, cupping them. "Your hands are shaking," she said.

Beth almost said that she really needed a shot of whiskey, but she felt an unusual sense of embarrassment. She never cared what Jerry thought of her drinking, but she didn't want Parabola to know.

"I haven't seen my Mother since I was 15," Beth said, "and the first thing she did after all this time was try to kill me."

"Oh no," Parabola said. "She was just angry."

"I don't see how that's any better."

"She does stuff like that sometimes," Parabola said. "She just gets angry and does some crazy things. It isn't personal. Sometimes she shoots before she thinks."

"So my Mother is a murderer?" Beth asked.

"Yes, and a thief too," Parabola said. "It's hard to believe you're her daughter. I mean, I've met lots of Beths, but you're different."

"She wasn't always like that," Beth said. "When I was a kid she used to sing. That's what I remember most. When my Father was away she would sing."

"And when he was home?"

"They were talking, laughing together. They seemed happy. I don't know why she's acting like this. You've known her a long time?"

"Yes. She drags me on her "adventures" as she calls them. She won't tell me why. I've seen her kill the other Mirandas. Most of them are dead by now anyway, but the rest are just nice stay at home moms. They don't even know what their Ricks do."

"Why would she kill them?" Beth asked.

"She never told me, and I only asked once. She's severe if she gets angry."

"How severe?" Beth asked.

Parabola pulled her hair back so Beth could see the side of her neck. A long scar ran down it. "Don't cross her," Parabola said. "I learned that quickly."

Beth traced the scar with her finger. "It's so hard to believe that my mother did that. Why did it happen?"

"I tried to interfere the first time she killed another Miranda. She just killed the woman anyway and sort of slashed at me with a knife. She barely even looked at me while she did it. It looked easy, like a practiced skill."

Beth shuddered. "Why would you stay?"

"Don't you think I've tried to leave? She always finds me. I don't know how, but I think I might have a tracking chip in me or something. Whatever it is doesn't show up on x-rays."

"We have to get Dad loose," Beth said. "He'll know what to do."

"We can't!" Parabola said. "He's as bad as she is. He's a terrorist!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Beth said. "He's a scientist."

"Beth, how well do you know your father?"

The old insecurities kicked in. All the times he came home injured but wouldn't go to a doctor. All the times that Morty told crazy stories that she'd dismissed.

 _I can't be blamed for that,_ she thought. _All children lie. When I get home I'll have to…_

Her memories had been fuzzy because of the concussion her mother had given her, but she realized with a start that her children were alone on another planet, or moon, or whatever.

"Oh my God!" she said. "My children are still at Blitz N' Chitz!"

"No," Parabola said. "I made sure they got home ok. The Captain wanted me to leave them there and let other Ricks figure it out, but I convinced her that she didn't want more Ricks involved. I came back. She would have found me anyway."

"Oh thank you," Beth said. "I can't believe I forgot them, but I couldn't remember what happened before very clearly, just the basics."

"She hit you pretty hard," Parabola said. "I'm sorry. We're lucky this ship has such advanced medical technology. The ones she steals are usually less well equipped."

"With them safe all I have to worry about is getting Dad free and escaping."

"Beths are so smart," Parabola said. "I know you'll get us out of here."

"You think I'm smart?" Beth asked.

"Every Beth I've ever met was some sort of medical person. I didn't get to study much past basic med school, and on my planet that's just not much. I have to hope that the medical bays of the ships we're in have mechanized medical equipment. I mean I know how to work on wounds, but you… wow. I can't even imagine what it must be like to spend your entire life helping other people and animals."

Beth blushed brightly.

"I've seen Beths that were nurses, pediatricians, vets, Army medics. I've never even seen another one of me out there – well, I did once, but she died. What do you do?"

Beth dreaded the question. "I'm a horse surgeon," she said, ready for the inevitable questions. _Couldn't you be a real surgeon?_

But Parabola squealed. "I _love_ horses. I've never met a Beth that was a horse surgeon!"

Beth didn't feel the need for a drink for the first time in years. "I like horses too," she said. "When we get back to Earth I'll show you where I work."

"Then you'll help me?" Parabola asked.

"I'm not sure I can help myself in this situation, but if I can get out of here I'll take you with me."

She gulped her tepid coffee for the caffeine if not the taste. "I feel better. We should go back and find out what's happening with my parents."

The ship was silent except for the hum of machines in the interior. "Where is everyone?" Beth asked.

"The ship is advanced enough that we only have about 10 people running it. At this time of night most of them are probably asleep. There would usually be a huge crew, but they were a research vessel, and the Captain doesn't care about such things. She just rigged it with weapons and shut off the labs."

When they opened the door to the med bay the soundproof nature of the room meant they were hit with a shock wave of cursing and screaming as soon as the door's seal broke. Neither of her parents noticed her, and Beth watched as they fought in a way she'd never seen before. They fought like she'd fought with Jerry.

They stood almost nose to nose, so Beth guessed that somehow her father had talked her into releasing him.

Parabola slipped her hand into Beth's, and she gave Beth an encouraging smile. It chased away the gloom settling on her and gave her courage.

"Stop it!" Beth yelled. "Just stop!" She yelled loudly enough that both of them turned to her in surprise.

"I don't care what happened. This is insane. Either kill us or let us go, but this can't continue forever."

Her mother slapped her across the back of her face with the back of her hand, sending Beth crashing to the floor.

Rick was on her Mother in a moment, pushing her away from Beth and against the wall, but Miranda was watching Parabola, who stood holding Miranda's gun in shaking hands.

"Oh, put that down, idiot," Miranda said. "You can't do that. You'd be stuck out here in space forever, alone."

Rick pulled the gun out of her hands. "Tie her up," he said.

Beth tied Miranda. "I'll kill both of you," Miranda spat. "All _three_ of you," she said, glaring at Parabola.

"Beth, take your friend there and find…urp…find a way off this ship. Wait for me."

"What are you going to do with Mom?" Beth asked.

"I'll follow. I'm sure one of her crewmates will find her and let her loose."

Beth hesitated.

"It will be fine honey," Rick said. "I just have a few things I want to say to her privately."

They weren't far down the hall before Rick caught up with them. Beth stopped. "Dad, what did you do?"

"I told you," Rick said. "I had a few th…things to say to your Mother."


	2. Chapter 2

"You didn't have that much blood on you before," Beth said. "You killed her, didn't you?"

"It had to happen," Rick said.

Beth followed Parabola silently through a maze of tunnels and corridors as she led them to a small ship. Rick leapt into the front seat without leaving time for discussion, and Parabola sat in the back next to Beth. They had to squeeze together to fit into the small space. The air was stale and vaguely smelled of sweat and metal.

Beth watched her father flick switches and turn dials. Most of it was in a strange, squiggly alien language. _How does he know all this?_ She wondered.

"Mom used to make the best cookies," Beth said, "and she loved to tell stories. I can't believe she's gone again."

Beth didn't hear Parabola's response. She was remembering what it had been like before her mother "died".

"Dad, why did she think I disfigured her?" Beth asked.

"We can t...talk about it later," Rick said.

"I want to talk about it now," Beth said.

Rick waited a minute to gather his thoughts, allowing the shuttle to fall away from the ship and drift a bit before engaging the engines.

"Well?" Beth asked.

"I guess you blocked the memory of how your mother…urp…died," Rick said. "You were just a kid. It wasn't your fault."

"What happened?" Beth asked.

"An accident," Rick said. "I was in the middle of an experiment, and Miranda ended up getting some of a s…serum on herself."

"Then why did she blame me?"

"You two had an argument. You really don't remember?"

"No," Beth said.

"You threw the beaker at her. You c…couldn't have known what was in it," Rick said. "You were just an angry kid."

"I? No. I couldn't have. I would remember that."

Rick gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. "I sure remember," he muttered. "It was a long time ago. I know she was dead. I buried her in the back yard."

"You what!" Beth screamed.

"I couldn't explain that to the authorities," Rick said. "So I buried her, took you to your Aunt's, and left to get...urp…to get my head together."

Beth wanted to scream, or cry, or break something, but that familiar tightness came back into her chest. _He'll leave if he knows how I feel,_ she thought.

"I didn't mean to stay away that long. I got involved with some people, and some things happened, and the n…next thing I knew 20 years had gone by."

"It's…it's ok," Beth said. "I know you would have come back if you could." She bit her finger to keep from crying while Parabola watched quietly.

"Yeah," Rick said. "Saving the universe was _totally_ worth what it cost, not at all a waste of my time. Urp…Lousy universe."

"God I need a drink," Rick and Beth said at the same time. The both laughed awkwardly.

"Like father like daughter, I guess," Beth said.

"I sure hope not," Rick said. "You can find someone else and start over."

"You could too Dad."

"No," Rick said. "I'm better alone."

Rick took a deep breath to clear his head. "Enough of that. Where do you want me to d…drop you off P…P…Parabola?"

"It doesn't matter," she said. "I guess Earth will work. Why not?"

"You don't have any friends or family?" Beth asked.

"Not really. The crew didn't like me, what with me being the Captain's assistant and all. I can't go back to my family after all of this. They're prominent politicians. I'd never be accepted after the stain I've left on the family name."

"You could stay with us until you get on your…urp…feet," Beth said, earning an openly curious look from Rick as he glanced back at her in the rearview mirror.

"It's your house," he said. "But where are you going to put her?"

"Oh, I can sleep anywhere," Parabola said.

Beth heard a quiet chuckle from Rick, and she shot him a dirty look.

"I have a hide-a-bed," Beth said.

"Oh, that thing is the worst," Rick said. "With J…Jerry gone you have that whole king sized bed to yourself. You two girls could share. It would be like a nice slumber party – could help you get your mind off of…urp…Jerry."

"Oh look," Beth said, a little too loudly. "I see the kids." She pointed under them toward their backyard, where Summer and Morty were waving excitedly.

As soon as the door opened they rushed to their mother and hugged her. "Are you ok? What happened?"

When Morty noticed Parabola he pointed an accusing finger at her. "She took us away from B…Blitz N' Chitz! We couldn't find you."

"It's complicated," Beth said. "She was protecting you from someone who would have hurt you. She's going to be staying with us for awhile."

"Hmm…," Morty grumbled, obviously suspicious.

Summer however, was more trusting, and she didn't even seem to care. "Dad came by," she said. "I just told him you were at work."

Beth tensed. "And what did he say?"

"He cried a lot," Summer said.

"He wanted us to go live with him," Morty said.

"You…you don't want to leave though?" Beth asked, fighting panic.

"We're still here, aren't we?" Morty asked.

"Of course," Beth said. "Of course you are."

"Hey, it's been really stressful," Rick said. "Why don't you g…girls go get some ice cream or buy shoes or something. Morty and I spend some time together, bonding or…I don't know. Whatever."

"Aw Rick," Morty whined. "You're not g…going to make me help you with something weird are you?"

"Of course not," Rick said. His smile was too friendly for Morty's comfort, his eyes too wide. "I'm working on something I could use an extra pair of hands for though."

"I'm worn out," Beth said. "I don't know how you do all that running around and then stay up all day too."

Rick went to his garage alone and took a small, blood covered piece of fabric out of his pocket. He wasn't sure what he had put inside it, but if his guess was right then he had much more of a problem than a vengeful dead wife.

He waited until 2 am to wake Morty, giving the rest of the family plenty of time to get to sleep. "Morty, come on. We need to do something."

"No," Morty groaned, pulling the pillow over his head. "I was up all night worrying about you and M…Mom. Let me sleep."

Rick took a long pull off his flask. "Shut up, you little turd," Rick said. "I don't have time for your shit right now." He let out a long belch and wiped a bit of vomit off his chin.

He took Morty to the ship, and he took off without explaining anything.

"Where are we going?" Morty asked.

"To sh…sh…shut-the-hell-upville, that's where," Rick snapped. "I need your help with something."

They went to another dimension, and they flew down to what looked like Earth to Morty, settling behind a house. It was dark, so Morty wasn't sure whose house it was. It looked familiar, but so did many suburban houses.

"We're not breaking in there are we?" Morty asked.

"No, but we have to be quick, and quiet," Rick said. "The other S…Smith family is probably in there sleeping."

"What?" Morty asked. "Why would you c…come here?"

"You'll see," Rick said. He went to the rose bushes behind the house and handed Morty a shovel. "Dig here."

"Oh, no," Morty said. "I'm not doing that again. Whose grave are we digging? Who did you kill?"

The murderous look Rick gave him only made him angrier.

"If I tell you will you shut up and…urp…dig?" Rick asked.

"Maybe, but if you don't tell me I'm going back to bed, even if I have to sleep in the ship."

"If I'm right, and I really hope I'm not, then there won't be a body there."

"Huh?" Morty asked.

"I think the p…person that I buried here might have been the one that abducted me and your mother."

"I don't understand," Morty said.

"Stay with me here, genius," Rick said. "Just dig, and I'll explain more if I need to. T…trust me, you don't want more information about this than you need."

Morty began to dig, and after 5 minutes he asked, "why aren't you helping?"

"I'm helping you get some muscles on those scrawny arms. Do you want to dig, or do you want me to tell your m…mother where you keep your Playboys?"

"I have the internet. Who needs magazines?" Morty grumbled, but he dug, stopping when a bit of white bone showed. "Ok, s…so who is he?"

Rick's heart fell. "She," he said. He dug away dirt to find the body, but the head had been cut off at the neck, leaving him looking at the jagged stump of the spinal cord. "It's a lot easier to carry a head than a whole body if you only want the b…brain."

"What brain?" Morty asked, as Rick walked back toward the house. "Whose brain Rick? Answer me!"

Rick was silent all the way home, but he grasped the steering wheel so tightly that he left imprints on the leather cover. Morty followed him into the garage and watched him unwrap the piece of fabric, where a metallic lump lay covered in blood. Bits of tissue were still attached to it, and it smelled like rotten meat.

"What is it?" Morty asked.

"What's left…urp…of my wife," Rick said, his voice breaking. He took a pull from the flask.

Morty poked at it. "Gross."

Rick smacked Morty lightly. "Show some respect!" he hissed.

He carefully cleaned the lump, revealing a computer chip. "I've seen this before. They implanted her memories, p…probably into a Miranda from another dimension."

"That's sick."

"Yes, Morty. It is. I have no idea who did it either. It was so long ago. I didn't even have that many enemies yet, but the ones I did have were…urp…powerful."

Morty waited for more, and when Rick said nothing he poked him. "Are you going to kill them when you f…find out?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I would kill them, if they were still alive. Since nothing came of this I assume they meant to…urp…use her as a weapon, but I must have g…gotten to them first. What are you still doing here? Go masturbate or something. Just leave me alone."

Morty left and slept uneasily, dreaming of zombies without heads.

The next morning he watched Parabola warily at breakfast. "Why are you wearing Dad's pajamas?" he asked.

"Morty, don't be rude," Beth said.

"It's ok Beth. I left my things behind Morty, and Beth leant me some clothes."

"They look better on you than they did Jerry anyway," Beth said, and they both laughed. Summer laughed too. Morty glared and ate cereal.

Beth and Parabola left together, with Parabola wearing Beth's black pants and a flannel shirt that Jerry had bought even though he never wore it. She blushed at Morty's inspection.

"Your mother is taller than me, and Jerry's clothes fit well, so…"

Morty just shrugged and pulled on his backpack as if he was going to school. "I don't care. Just don't get Mom into d…danger. We have enough p…problems with Rick." He slammed the door on his way out.

"Don't mind him," Beth said. "He's going through a phase."

Beth expected the ride to work to be uneasy, but she found Parabola easy to talk to. "I was lucky enough to be off work when all this happened," she said. "Three day weekend."

Parabola loved the stables. She giggled as a horse nuzzled her. "I used to ride when I was a child," she said. "We had horses on my planet too, imported from Earth in my dimension." She petted the horse's mane.

"I'm sure your family misses you," Beth asked.

"I can't go back there," Parabola said. "When the Captain took me I was just a kid. She said I have a psychic signature that masks hers, keeping the Rick's from being able to see her. I came from a rich family, really respectable. They'd pity me, and I'd be such an embarrassment to them they'd probably lock me away somewhere – make me be a nun or something. I can't deal with that. I'd rather find a way to make it on my own."

Beth gave in to an impulse and kissed her gently.

"But I thought…," Parabola began. "You have a husband."

"Only until he signs the divorce papers," Beth said. "I just wanted to do that."

Parabola laid her head on Beth's shoulder. "I can't believe you'd want me. You're smarter and more beautiful than all the other Beths."

Beth ran her hand down Parabola's face. "It's been a long time since I've been happy," Beth said, "and you make me happy."

An alarm went off on her phone, and Beth sighed. "I have to go to work now. Do you have plans?"

"I thought I'd look around town," Parabola said. "I've been on enough planets to fit in now. I pick things up quickly."

Beth pulled cash from her pocket and handed it to Parabola. "You might need some money until you find a job."

"I guess this is local currency?" Parabola asked. "I can figure it out."

Beth noticed that Parabola was wearing a watch and gave her the local time. "Meet me back here about 5:00."

As soon as she started work Beth forgot about Parabola, Jerry, her Mother, everything but her work. Outside the animal hospital she felt insecure about her work, but when she was elbow deep in a horse's entrails that animal was her entire world. Everything around her faded.

After her last patient she was cleaning up when her partner Thomas asked, "so I heard a rumor that you and Jerry are splitsville?"

"Who told you? Never mind. I know who. He came here, didn't he?"

"He didn't believe you weren't here, said your kids sent him. We got rid of him for you, but not until he whined about you dumping him. Did it really happen?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Beth said. "You can put a criminal trespass on him if he causes too much trouble, but he's harmless."

"You know, it's hard to be alone. If you ever need something fixed, a man around the house is useful. I've always thought a lot of you and…"

"Thomas, don't. Just…don't," Beth said.

Thomas grinned, his charming perfect smile annoying Beth slightly. "Can't blame a man for trying," he said.

"I can," Beth said. "See you tomorrow."

Parabola was outside, reading a map of Jamestown, which she tucked into her pocket when she saw Beth.

"I got a job," she said. "It wasn't hard."

"With no ID?" Beth asked. "How did you pull that off?"

"I walked into a restaurant and when they asked me for ID I told them that I lost everything in a fire. The manager hired me under the table. I don't know what that means. That sort of thing works on a lot of planets. The people who can cook and clean can always find a job somewhere. Sometimes the Captain ran short of money and made me get a job."

"Under the table means he hired you illegally," Beth said.

"I thought it might be something like that. I'll have to find a way to get some sort of ID."

"It isn't easy," Beth said, "but my father can probably pull it off. He's a genius."

"About him. Your mother told me all sorts of crazy stories. Isn't he an intergalactic criminal?"

Beth hesitated. "I don't think so. I know that he was part of some rebellion. I've never been around when he was fighting with anyone. He comes home and eats meals with us, and then he drags Morty off on adventures. I never believed all the crazy things Morty said about him, but after what I've seen these last few days I just don't know any more."

"Is he safe?" Parabola asked. "I've heard so many things."

"He's my father," Beth said, "and from what I saw I wouldn't take my mother's word on what he's like."


	3. Chapter 3

Beth knocked on the garage door when they got home, but she got no answer. "He's probably working, or out," she said, "but the next time I see him I'll ask him about making an ID for you. He's a genius. I'm sure he can think of a way."

Morty and Summer were in the living room watching TV. "Did you two eat?" Beth asked.

"Yeah," Morty said. He was too distracted by Ballfondlers to pay much attention.

Beth made sandwiches for herself and Parabola. "This is nice," she said.

"It is," Parabola said. She blushed. "I could get used to this."

Beth barely noticed Summer's rambling at dinner later, or Morty's moping. Her father toyed with some small invention, getting oil on the table. She didn't even care. She kept sneaking looks at Parabola, trying to decide what life could be like with someone so different than anyone else she'd ever been with. She couldn't remember what she'd ever seen in Jerry.

That night Beth lent Parabola one of her longer T shirts to sleep in, but it was still incredibly alluring. They lay talking quietly, both tense but pretending not to be nervous.

"It's so weird," Parabola said. "I can barely remember a time when I wasn't running from someone, or dodging the law with the Captain."

"You're safe here," Beth said. "You can stay as long as you want. I hope that's a long time."

"Beth, I've never… I mean…"

Suddenly Beth felt the weight of Parabola's inexperience. "We don't have to rush anything," she said. "It's just nice to have you here."

Parabola put her head on Beth's shoulder and rested against her. Beth resisted the urge to pull her close and kiss her, instead stroking her hair and touching her cheek gently. Parabola closed her eyes and leaned closer to Beth, but just as their lips touched a loud banging on the door stopped them.

"Beth!" they heard from outside.

Beth groaned and reluctantly released Parabola, feeling the lingering warmth from her embrace. "I'll take care of it," she said, throwing on a robe. She half expected her father to storm out and punch Jerry, but only Summer emerged from her room, rubbing her eyes blearily.

"Summer, go back to your room," Beth said. She opened the door, and Jerry stumbled into the room, reeking of whiskey. He tried to grab Beth, who pushed him away.

"I told you to leave," she said. "The only thing I want from you is those papers signed."

"I need you," Jerry said.

Beth felt nothing but disgust for the wreck before her, and for the first time she wondered if her children saw her this way when she was drunk.

Jerry pulled the divorce papers from his pocket, and looking her in the eye he ripped them into shreds.

"What do I have to do to get rid of you?" Beth yelled. "The only thing good that every came out of being with you was Summer and Morty!"

"But we do have them," Jerry said.

"No," Beth said. "I have them. What have you done for them except be an out of work executive? An advertising executive. Who does that anyway? That's not a job; it's a way to scam customers."

"Oh yeah? Says the woman who couldn't hack it enough to work on humans. Horses? Really?"

"I love operating on horses!" Beth yelled. "There's nothing wrong with it."

Jerry began to cry. "I'm sorry Beth. I love you."

"Ugh. Get out," Beth said.

"I'm not going anywhere," Jerry said. He sat on the couch and crossed his arms.

"You can't stay here," Beth said. "I'll put a restraining order on you."

Jerry flung a whiskey bottle at her, but she dodged and it hit the garage door.

Beth saw a blue light flash briefly under the garage door. Rick opened the door to the living room, and Beth's stomach clenched. The look he gave Jerry was the look a snake reserved for a particularly slow mouse.

Rick staggered and took a drink from his flask. "Jerry, if you don't get the fuck out of here right now I'll feed you your teeth."

Jerry was drunk, but he was still walking somewhat steadily. Rick, on the other hand, could barely stand. Beth thought he was drunker than she'd ever seen him.

Morty came out of the garage behind Rick. No one even noticed him.

"I'm not letting you chase me off again!" Jerry yelled at Rick. "You had no right!"

Rick threw an ineffectual punch, more drunken stagger than punch. He lost his balance and fell, just as Jerry threw a weak but well aimed punch.

Jerry caught Rick across the side of the side of the head, knocking him back.

"Dad!" Beth screamed as Rick fell, but before she could reach him he was already trying to rise, unsteadily leaning on the wall and snarling at Jerry.

Morty stepped between Rick and Jerry. "Stop it!" he said.

Neither of them paid much attention to him, and when Rick threw another punch Jerry dodged. He never could have done it sober; he never would have dared to try, but Jerry sucker punched Rick, dropping him to the ground.

Rick vomited, sending up vodka and bile.

Beth suddenly realized how old her father was, but Rick was on his feet before Jerry could approach again.

All of the anger and frustration of years of failure built up in Jerry, and he grabbed a vase and swung it at Rick's head.

Rick could have easily dodged any of Jerry's attacks sober, or even less drunk, but the vase came down toward his head faster than he could move.

Morty was between the two drunks, and he swatted the vase out of the way and pushed his father backwards as the vase shattered nearby.

Jerry stared in shock at his son, and Rick stepped back. Rick watched Morty closely, his eyes narrowed and as focused as he could manage in his condition.

Morty stepped toward his father and pushed him in the chest, hard.

"I hate you!" Morty said. "Leave R…Rick alone! He's an asshole, but he's my only friend."

Jerry's mouth moved silently. His eyes were wide and shocked. He looked around the room and turned, leaving silently. He stopped at the door and turned back. "I…I'm sorry," he said, almost too quietly to be heard.

Parabola had stood quietly near the door, still wearing Beth's shirt, which reached to her knees.

Summer went back to her room without saying anything to anyone, and Rick took a long drink from his bottle and wandered back toward the garage, putting a hand on his head where he'd been hit.

Morty started toward the front door.

"Where are you going?" Beth asked.

"I want to talk to Dad," Morty said. "He could have really hurt someone."

"Morty, go to your room," Beth said. "I'll take care of your father."

Morty stopped and looked at his mother with a dark look. "N…no you won't," he said. He glanced at Rick's retreating figure. "Neither of you will."

"What?" Beth asked, but Morty had already left the house, slamming the door behind him.

She ran out after him. It was a cool October night, but Morty walked determidly toward his father's car wearing nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms. His little fists were clenched and his jaw was set as he ground his teeth.

Jerry pulled out of the driveway weaving drunkenly, and Morty and Beth watched him leave.

"Come inside," Beth said. "This is between me and your father. It isn't your responsibility to fix it."

"I'm tired of how things are," Morty said. "Dad's drunk, you're usually drunk, and Rick's all kinds of messed up."

Beth realized she'd been sober longer since she'd come back than she could remember.

"Morty, it's ok," she said. "I'm going to stop drinking." As soon as she said it the weight of her promise hit her, but she decided to worry about that later.

She put her arms out, and even though Morty resisted slightly he let her hug him.

"I'm going to take care of this," Beth said. "What did you mean when you said that Rick is messed up?"

"I don't know," Morty said, "but he's acting even weirder than n…normal."

"How?"

Morty shrugged. "I don't know," he repeated, irritated. He went back to his room without saying anything else, and after Beth tried to get him to talk she let him go to bed. She came down the stairs heavily, her entire shitty life in a new perspective that she couldn't avoid.

Parabola was waiting for her, still wearing the dressing gown. Beth couldn't help but smile when a sudden sense of safety came to her. Parabola wasn't a part of the horrid hole her life had become. She was like a fresh breeze blowing by a dumpster, taking away some of the stench and leaving something better behind.

"Are you ok?" Parabola asked.

Beth took a deep breath. "No, but I'm glad you're here. It makes things easier. I need to check on Summer."

Summer was lying on her bed on her stomach, reading a fashion magazine.

"Honey, do you want to talk?" Beth asked.

"What's there to talk about?" Summer asked. "Dad's gone, right?"

"Yes. How do you feel about that?" Beth asked.

Summer looked up at her with slow tears running down her cheeks. "Is everyone as messed up as we are?"

"I…" Beth didn't know what to say. She sat next to Summer on the bed. "I love you, honey. That's what matters. I love you, and Morty does, and your Grandfather, and even your father. He's being a real jerk, but he loves you and Morty. This isn't about you. I promise."

"I want it to be over," Summer said.

"So do I," Beth said, "but it takes time."

"Are you going to change your name?" Summer asked. "Do we have to change our names?"

"I haven't even thought about that," Beth said. "You and Morty can decide that, but you don't have to do it unless you want to."

Summer sat up and reached for a tissue from her bedside table, blowing her nose and tossing it into the little trash can with the unicorn painted on it.

"Any other question?" Beth asked.

"Is Parabola your girlfriend?" Summer asked.

The question caught Beth off guard. She remembered the soft embrace before Jerry ruined the evening, the unspoken promise of a night full of passion and tenderness. But nothing had actually happened.

"Would that be a problem?" Beth asked.

"I guess not," Summer said. "I mean, she's kind of weird, but I like her. You've got to get her some of her own clothes though. Dad and she have completely different skin tones, and his clothes aren't flattering on her."

"She didn't have anything of her own," Beth said. "Everything got left behind when we fled. It is weird though, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Summer said. "Someone with her complexion should never wear dark colors."

Her mother laughed at her daughter's teen perspective. "I'll see what I can do about that. Go to sleep if you can. You need some rest, especially after all of this."

When she left the room she smelled coffee, and she found Parabola in the kitchen pulling two mugs out of the cabinet.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Beth said. "I can understand if you want to leave."

Parabola shook her head. "I'm not going to run off just when you need me."

They sat down with coffee, which neither drank, but instead they focused on each other. Beth took Parabola's hands in her own, looking at the delicate long fingers. She kissed one of Parabola's hands.

"Summer asked about us," she said. "She wanted to know if you're my girlfriend."

"Oh," Parabola said quietly. "What did you tell her?"

Beth looked into those soft, expressive eyes, looking a bit frightened at the moment.

"Nothing, yet. I don't have much to offer. I'm just a horse surgeon with a crazy soon to be ex-husband, but if you can put up with us I can't think of anything more pleasant than waking up in the morning with you. I'd like to share my life with you."

Parabola beamed at her, but then she looked serious again. "But what about the kids?"

"I haven't talked to Morty yet, but Summer really only has one complaint. She doesn't like you wearing Jerry's clothes."

Parabola's eyes widened. "I didn't think about that. I'm not trying to take Jerry's place, really. I hope you don't think that."

"Oh, it's not that," Beth said. "She just thinks it's unattractive."

Parabola laughed. "I think we can fix that. If that's the worst problem we have it will be amazing."

They went to bed, and Beth lay with conflicting emotions. As much as she tried to convince herself that she was glad Jerry was gone there was an aching grief. She couldn't help but remember what he'd been like when he was younger, handsome, charming. If he hadn't lost his job…

But that was all water under the bridge, and when Parabola slipped her arm around Beth and pressed against her Beth accepted her warmth gladly.

The morning came too soon, only a few short hours after the debacle with Jerry. Parabola came out of the bathroom in her new uniform. She was shy and changed alone, to Beth's disappointment. It was odd to see a space traveler wearing the mundane polyester uniform of Casa Ole.

"I'm sorry you have to work in a place like that," Beth said. "I'll see if I can get you something where I work."

"I don't mind," Parabola said. "I've done worse, and now I have a reason for it."

They sat with the children at breakfast. Summer watched them, and Morty sat quietly with his hair in disarray. He picked at his food listlessly, and his head drooped several times, almost falling into his eggs.

"Morty, go back to bed," Beth said. "I'll tell the school you're sick."

Morty shuffled to his room, and Beth made her father a plate. It wasn't like him to miss breakfast. He loved breakfast.

She knocked tentatively on the garage door. "Dad?" When she got no answer she knocked again. "Dad? I brought you some breakfast."

Rick opened the door, looking more disheveled than usual and with a bruise across the side of his head where Jerry had hit him.

"Oh! I didn't know he hit you so hard," Beth said.

"I'm fine," Rick said. He took the plate from Beth and belched. "I'm working on an anti-J…Jerry shield." He suddenly looked hesitant. "It will be ok, honey." He closed the door.

That night Rick didn't come down to dinner, and Beth took him another plate of food. He handed her an ID card. "Your little friend said she n…needed one."

It looked perfect. "How did you do this?" Beth asked.

"I…urp…I know some people," Rick said.

He waved away the food. "I'll eat later," he said. "Too much…urp…work to do. This is important."

"I'll put it in the fridge," Beth said, but he had already turned away, working on some gadget or other.

Beth felt the emptiness of being alone that she'd occasionally dealt with since her father had left, but she pushed it away and covered the plate with foil before putting it in the fridge for later.

Morty and Summer were working on their homework after dinner, and she stopped and watched them at the dinner table, Summer at a gangly, awkward stage and looking very like her grandfather as she scowled in concentration. Morty looking too much like Jerry for her liking, but with so much more promise than Jerry had ever had, in her opinion.

Morty's eyes had dark bags under them, as usual, and Beth wondered if Jerry might have been right about his adventures with his Grandfather.

 _Morty called him his only friend,_ Beth thought. She had been popular enough, and Jerry had his own circle when he was younger. _Why can't he make friends?_ She wondered. _He's a good boy._

She checked the locks nervously, remembering Jerry's lack of control the night before. She'd never seen him like that, but she'd never seen him drunk either.

Parabola wasn't interested in talking about her job. "It's a restaurant," she said. "They're pretty much the same anywhere."

Beth lay awake long into the night, thinking. She was glad that Parabola wasn't pressing her about sex. To say she wasn't in the mood was an understatement.

She threw herself into her work, and when she left the house for the day she had the oddest sense of being watched, but she shook it off. _I am getting paranoid,_ she thought, but she was glad to get home, safe behind locks and familiarity.

She slept heavily, exhausted by recent events.

She left the house early the next morning, hoping to get some Starbucks before work. She usually left after Summer and Morty, but that morning they were still waiting for the bus.

Jerry stepped around the corner of the house when she came out, and she felt a nauseous tightening in her stomach. He hadn't shaved in several days, and the patchy beard beginning to grow in, combined with the wild, untamed hair made Beth's skin crawl.

Parabola stepped out behind her, stopping when she saw Jerry.

Jerry looked at no one but Beth, and he stepped toward her. "You can't do this," he said. "You can't take my family away from me. We belong together."

Morty and Summer turned toward them at the sound of their father's voice.

"You need to leave," Beth said. "I'll get a restraining order if you keep doing this."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. "You can't do this!" he said.

As soon as Jerry grabbed Beth's arm, Morty stepped toward him with his fists clenched, but Parabola was there first. She threw an upper cross that knocked Jerry down, and she was on him in an instant, punching and kicking more like a vicious animal than a fighter.

Jerry backed off and ran, bleeding from a split lip and holding his side where Parabola had landed a strong kick while he was down.

Parabola snarled after him, "and don't come back!"

Morty was staring at her with his mouth slightly open, but Summer stared after their retreating father.

The bus pulled up, and it was odd to watch her children climb on as if nothing had happened, as if their usually placid father hadn't just assaulted their mother.

She felt herself shaking with the aftermath of adrenaline, and she collapsed against Parabola, letting her hold her and stroke her hair.

She left for work late, and she had to focus to drive safely.

Parabola waited until she was sure Beth was gone, and she knocked on Rick's door. He answered it with a scowl. "What?" he asked. "I'm…urp…working on something."

"Jerry was here," Parabola said. "I stopped him from hurting Beth, but I might not be around next time."

Rick was suddenly very focused. "What do you mean you stopped him from hurting Beth? I've seen soggy toast with more backbone than any Jerry."

"He was drunk," Parabola said. She looked Rick squarely in the eye. "Beth deserves better than this. She's delicate. She needs protection."

"I'm working on it," Rick said. "I've never tried to build a p…protective shield against one person, but I'm making headway. The…urp…the problem is making three small enough to put around her and the kids. I can protect the house easily."

"That won't stop a gun if he comes back with one," Parabola said, "and he grabbed her in front of the kids."

"I wish I'd been there," Rick said.

"I took care of it. We can't always be there though, can we? I've heard enough stories about you to believe that you can do what needs to be done, and we both know what needs to be done, don't we?"

"I've thought about it," Rick said. "It's easy enough to hide a b…body in the suburbs. If you look like a quiet, well behaved family the cops stay busy other places."

"Why is he still alive?" Parabola asked.

"He was mostly annoying before," Rick said. "I don't know what you've heard, but I don't kill people for being annoying. This though – he'll pay for this."

"I've never killed anyone," Parabola said, "but I saw the Captain do it enough. Tell me what we need to do."

"I'll take care of it," Rick said. "It has to l…look like an accident, and Beth is smart. If she figures it out she'll never talk to either of us again."

Parabola nodded. "I need to get to work at the restaurant," she said. "Let me know what happens."

Rick smiled, but his eyes were narrow and his mouth was twisted into a smirk. "I like the way you think," he said.

Parabola felt suddenly hesitant. _Did Rick Sanchez just say that he likes how I think?_ She wondered. She remembered the Captain's bitter stories, about all that she'd learned after leaving Earth.

She looked at the man before her. _I can't forget that I'm living with a terrorist now,_ she thought, and the thought gave her a shudder, but she remembered Beth saying that he was a freedom fighter.

 _The Captain did hate him enough to put a hateful spin on what he did,_ she thought, _and there are so many different Ricks, but that doesn't mean much._

She'd seen the Captain do things that still haunted her. She never killed out of malice or passion, but somehow that made it worse when she dispassionately hunted down and killed the other Mirandas across the other dimensions. She made sure it looked like accidents, or illnesses, and the other Ricks never even seemed to suspect that someone was a serial killer hunting their wives. Miranda had been good, and even when she had to shoot the other Mirandas she'd covered her tracks.

She would never say why she did it, and over time Parabola reluctantly accepted her own fate. It wasn't until she'd met Beth that she'd really believed she might have another life, and Rick was part of that.


	4. Chapter 4

Rick worked feverishly, angry and less patient by the minute. He put the final touches on the anti-Jerry shield, a little blood he'd gotten from him when he was sleeping, just in case he ever needed it. He had blood samples from all of the family and many of their friends.

Morty quietly opened the door. "Is Mom gone?" he asked.

"Yeah. Did you finally decide to d…ditch that worthless school like I told you?" Rick asked.

"What's the point?" Morty asked.

Rick turned on the machine, and it emitted a low hum.

"What's that?" Morty asked, coming to the table and looking. He knew better than to touch. He'd learned that the hard way once when he'd handled a mutagenic substance, and Rick had to waste hours finding a fix for his hand while he wailed like the baby he was.

"It's an EM repellant device," Rick said. "It uses an…urp…electromagnetic pulse to stop mice, but I've re-engineered it to specifically target Jerry's DNA."

"Huh?" Morty asked.

Rick sighed. "God you're dumb. It's an anti-Jerry machine."

"Oh," Morty said flatly. "That's g…good."

"Don't sound so excited," Rick said.

"Thanks," Morty said. "I wish Dad wasn't such a f…fuck up."

"You and me b…both," Rick said. "This will…urp…this will help."

He glanced toward a computer that was set aside on a folding table. Wires led from it to a small black box. "Get out of here," Rick said. "I have work to do, and you'll get in the way."

"What's wrong with you?" Morty asked. "You've been r…r…really weird since you came back."

"I told you before, nothing's wrong," Rick snapped.

"Liar," Morty said.

Rick turned his attention to his grandson. "What did you say to me?" he asked.

"I said you're a liar," Morty said louder. He kept eye contact with Rick, even when his 6 foot 3 grandfather crossed the room and towered over him.

"I'm t..t…tired of whatever is happening," Morty said. "Dad is nuts, Mom is sad, Summer is hardly talking, and you're getting w…weirder. Why can't you just be normal?"

Rick snorted. "You want n…normal? Normal is your parents, kid. Normal is guys getting fat and old in jobs they hate married to people they hate. Shut the…urp…fuck up about normal."

"We need you!" Morty said. "Stop running away and getting all d…drunk and shit. I can't do this anymore."

"Can't do what?" Rick sneered. "Be a kid who…urp…worries about grades and girls? Sounds _soooo_ hard."

"I can't fix things," Morty said. "I tried. I called D…Dad and tried to talk to him, but he's still drunk. I'm so tired of trying to fix things. Can't you do it for awhile?"

Rick was used to Morty looking miserable, all Morty's looked miserable. It's what they did – their fate, much like his fate was to spend his life trying to fix what the other Ricks and the government had done to the universe.

He looked down at Morty, somehow looking defiant and sad at the same time, and he felt familiar old problem flair up. He wanted to reach down and hug the brat, tell him it would be ok, tell him that his father could change, that his Mother would go back to the way she was before Morty even knew here, happy and free. He wanted to lie to Morty.

"Morty, why do you think I keep d…dragging you around the universe?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Morty asked.

"Just…urp…answer the question, dipshit."

"I know I'm just your shield because I'm dumb. You don't have to r…remind me."

Rick wondered how Morty would use the information Rick was hiding. _He'll turn against me,_ he thought. _He's already barely manageable sometimes._

And yet, he remembered what it had been like to come home to Miranda so many years ago. To know that no matter what happened out there in the ugly universe, no matter what atrocities he saw or what he had to do to try to stop the madness there was a bit of stability, one place where he was always welcome.

He ached for that, and he reached for his flask to fill the void. It was empty. "Fuck," he said listlessly, dropping the flask on the table.

"What if I told you that you aren't all that d…dumb?" Rick asked.

"Whatever," Morty said. "You're just screwing with me, aren't you?"

"Well, you're not smart, but you're not any d…dumber than most kids your age."

"Yeah, s…so?"

"So traveling alone sucks. That's all there is to it."

"Then why did you tell me I'm stupid?" Morty asked.

Rick shrugged. "Because…urp…almost everyone is stupid to me. G…get over it."

"Fine," Morty said. "I will." He turned and stomped toward the door.

"Wait!" Rick said. "That isn't what I meant to say. Come here. I have s…something I want to show you."

He showed Morty the computer. "I wasn't going to show this to anyone. You keep your mouth shut, ok? This is just between you and me."

Morty leaned closer, intrigued. "What is it?"

Rick turned on the computer, and they waited while it booted up. Rick's palms sweated, and he wiped them nervously on his lab coat.

He opened a file on the desktop and ran a program. A 16 bit face filled the screen.

"Morty, I want you to meet your g…grandmother." He clicked the face, and the eyes opened.

She immediately snarled at Rick. "You bastard! You shot me!"

"You didn't give me much choice," Rick said. "We can get past that."

The computer generated Miranda clone laughed. "Are you insane? You shot me." She looked around. "I can't move. What did you do to me?"

"I didn't want to lose you again," Rick said. "You died. I br…brought you back."

"YOU WHAT?" Miranda screamed.

"You could be a little…urp…grateful," Rick said. "Not many people get a chance at immortality."

"You fucking asshole!" Miranda screamed.

"Now honey, that's no way to talk in front of your…urp…grandson," Rick said. His smile was strained. "I want to make this marriage work, but it takes two."

"You want to…? Did you lose your mind?"

Rick sighed and pulled Morty forward. "This is your grandson Morty. Say hello to your g…grandmother."

"Um, hi," Morty said. He looked up at Rick. "We met before. I didn't know who she was."

"Why are you showing me Beth's pathetic spawn?" Miranda sneered.

Rick expected Morty to come back at her. He'd been mouthy enough lately, but instead he hung his head and his posture slouched. Rick saw how very much Jerry's son he was, and he felt hard and cold inside again.

"Well?" Rick said. "S…stand up for yourself, boy."

"Ok," Morty said. He stepped forward and turned off the computer. He yanked the wires out of the computer and pushed it off the table, letting it crash to the floor. "This is fucked up, even for you."

"No!" Rick yelled, jumping toward the computer. He frantically checked the computer. "Do you know what you've done?"

"She's d…dead and this is sick," Morty said. "Rick, we need you. I need you. You're my only friend and I don't know what to d…do anymore."

Rick looked at the earnest face, and he saw Beth there, with all her loneliness and sadness. He'd never noticed his daughter's personality in Morty before. He was all too aware of Jerry's.

Rick took off his lab coat and covered the computer as if it was a corpse. "Rest in peace," he said quietly.

"I wish you could have known her before," Rick said. "She was so…urp…sweet, and kind. Generous, smart."

Rick remembered the feeling of seeing her in her pressed apron, smiling and unaware of the evil that lurked everywhere. It had always made him feel so good, making a safe place for her and Beth.

"I wish you could have known me before," Rick said.

"I know you now!" Morty said, "but you're b…barely here."

Rick sat on his cot and leaned his elbows on his knees, covering his face with his hands.

"I can't be what you want," Rick said. "That guy died a long time ago."

"That's some bullshit," Morty said.

"Go…urp…go away," Rick said quietly. "I n…need to be alone."

He heard rustling, but he didn't look up. He couldn't care less what Morty was doing. When Morty left he went to his work table.

Miranda, then Unity. Birdperson. Everyone he cared for left or died. It was better not to care. It was better to be alone, an island. It was better to be dead.

He opened a drawer underneath his work table and wondered how he had managed to misplace his laser pistol.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Jerry had told Summer and Morty where he was living, and Morty walked the four miles as fast as he could, trying not to think about what he was about to do.

Jerry lived in a rundown motel, the kind of place that Morty saw on cop shows. He walked past a homeless man with a "will work for food" sign, and stepped on broken glass from a beer bottle.

Jerry's studio apartment was on the second floor, and when Morty knocked on the door his heart was racing.

Jerry laughed and tried to hug Morty when he opened the door, but Morty pulled away. Jerry didn't seem to notice the reserve on his son's face. Jerry stepped back into the apartment. "Come in!" he said. "It's not much now, but I'm about to get a better job soon, and I can get something better so that you and Summer can come live with me. I'm just working at McDonald's, but things are about to turn around."

Jerry pulled a cup out of the cabinet and drew some water from the tap. He turned to hand it to Morty, but he stopped, shocked at what he saw.

Morty stood in the center of the room, holding his arms out and clutching a gun in both hands. He was shaking.

"Son, what are you doing?" Jerry asked.

"I won't let you hurt Mom," Morty said. "No one else is g…going to fix things. I have to do it."

"Morty, put the gun down. Let's talk about this."

Morty had seen Rick kill people before. It looked so easy. All he had to do was pull the trigger and his mother would be safe. Summer would be happy, and he could help Rick somehow.

"I'm sorry Dad," he said. He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.

He didn't open his eyes until he heard the thud, and when he did he saw Jerry lying on the floor with blood seeping out of his chest. Jerry coughed roughly.

"Oh god," Morty said. His father's eyes closed and his head fell to the side. Morty turned and ran, clutching the gun.

Rick was still nursing his sadness with the bottle of Popov that he'd found when Morty barged into his room.

"What are you doing with my gun, you little shit? That's not a toy."

Morty dropped the gun and stared at it. "I fixed it," he said, his voice trembling as much as his body. "N…no one else would f…fix it, but I did. Mom's safe now."

He looked up at Rick with horror in his eyes.

Rick felt a cold shiver run up and down his body. "What did you do Morty?" he asked.

"I fixed the problem," Morty said. "Someone had to do it." His eyes were glazed.

Rick crossed the room and put his hands on Morty's shoulders.

"Morty. What d…d…did you do?" When Morty didn't answer Rick shook him by the shoulders.

"What did you do?" Rick yelled.

"Dad won't hurt Mom again," Morty said.

Rick realized that Morty was too traumatized by his own actions to tell him the obvious.

"Did you shoot your father?" Rick asked, forcing gentleness into his voice and hoping that Morty would respond.

Morty nodded. "You understand, right?"

"Yeah," Rick said, "but I bet it was sloppy. Is he alive?"

"I d…don't think so," Morty said.

"You're not sure? You're going to have to…urp…learn to keep your head in these situations. Where is he?"

Morty gave him the address.

"That's a shithole," Rick said. "I doubt anyone even called the cops. The sorts of people that live there don't want attention, and I imagine a s…single gunshot won't draw too much attention."

Rick took the lab coat off of Miranda's computer grave and put it on, tucking the gun into it. "You tried to tell me, didn't you?" Rick asked Morty. The weight of his failures crashed in on him, but a long swig of vodka straight from the bottle helped just a bit.

"I should have listened," Rick said. "I will next time."

Morty still stood shaking. "I c…can't believe I did that."

"We'll talk about it later," Rick said. "Right now you need to go to your…urp…room and wait for me."


	5. Chapter 5

Rick took a tube of cream and walked to the apartment, using subterfuge instead of Morty's direct route. There were no police cars or ambulances when he arrived, so he thought he might be lucky.

 _This is going to be hell to fix if he's dead,_ Rick thought. The door was still ajar, and Rick walked in.

Jerry was awake and sitting, leaning against the wall and holding his arm over his wound. He breathed heavily, and blood seeped slowly through his fingers onto the already stained brown carpet.

"You're lucky Morty has shitty aim and I leave the gun on the…urp…lowest setting when I'm not using it," Rick said, and he kneeled by Jerry.

Jerry tried to move away from him, but Rick grabbed his arm roughly. He tore Jerry's shirt open and smeared the cream on his chest.

"Morty shot me," Jerry gasped.

"That's w…w…why I'm here, dumbass," Rick said. "Get up."

"Don't call an ambulance," Jerry said. "I can't afford it. We'll have to drive to the hospital."

"Sure," Rick said. "That's what I'm doing. I'm taking you to the hospital."

When Jerry stood he gasped and fell against the wall. Rick put his arm around Jerry, pulling his arm over his shoulder.

"Pussy," he grumbled. "Morty would have whined about it, but he would have walked this off as soon as I used the m…medicine. Summer is more of a man than you, Jerry."

A homeless man saw him, and he had no idea who else might be witnessing the event through their windows. Rick was tempted to drop Jerry down the stairs, but he had to keep it clean. The last thing he needed was someone seeing him killing his idiot ex-son-in-law.

He helped Jerry into his car and got in, adjusting the seats to fit his long legs. It was a small car and he felt uncomfortably cramped.

Jerry groaned. "Oh shut up," Rick said. "If you were going to die you would have done it by now. Morty's just lucky that it was on the lowest setting."

Jerry's eyes closed.

"Fucking drama queen," Rick said as he drove home. Beth would be home later, but that should give him enough time to do what he needed to do.

He went inside and turned off the anti-Jerry machine and went back to wake Jerry with a slap and haul him inside into his garage.

He opened the hidden trapdoor and pointed downward. "Get d…down there," he said.

Jerry shook his head and stumbled back.

Rick pulled the gun out. "Climb down that ladder or I'll just…urp…finish the job. I barely have any r…reason to keep you alive. Just do it."

Jerry glanced at the gun, then at Rick, and climbed down.

"Now get against the wall," Rick said to him.

Jerry cringed against the wall, and Rick chained one wrist to the wall. There wasn't a reason to chain two. Jerry couldn't escape.

"Rick, come on," Jerry whined. "You can't really mean to keep me down here."

Rick left without talking and went to Morty's room. He opened the door without knocking. Morty lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Is it done?" Morty asked.

"I took care of it," Rick said. "Come to the lab."

"I need to think about some th…things," Morty said.

"Oh, just do it," Rick grumbled. He grabbed Morty by the arm, pulling him along. _He's still in shock,_ he thought. He remembered the first time he'd killed a man. It was a Groflemite, and he'd barely avoided dying himself. Even though it was self-defense it had taken Birdperson some time to help him deal with the guilt.

Rick opened the hatch and called down, "hey idiot! How's it going down there?"

"Rick?" Jerry called. "Let me out! I'll go away and leave Beth alone. Don't kill me."

"Dad?" Morty cried excitedly. "Dad? Is it r…really you?"

"Morty?" Jerry asked. "Why did you try to kill me?"

"Don't answer that," Rick said. "You didn't kill anyone, ok? Just go back to your room and let me d…deal with this."

"Rick, please don't kill him. I can't believe I did that, and I don't really want him dead. I just want Mom to be safe."

"I should have handled this before. You're just a kid Morty. I won't kill him, but I'll get him to stay away. Is that enough?"

Morty nodded. "How do I know you won't kill him?" Morty asked. "You lie to me all the t…time."

"This is…urp…different," Rick said. "It's more important."

Morty smiled through the tears in his eyes. On impulse he hugged Rick, which Rick allowed for a brief moment before pushing him away, out of surprise of course, not to comfort Morty. Never to allow another person to comfort him, certainly.

"Don't make it weird," Rick said.

Later that night Beth was shocked that Rick wanted to cook dinner.

"I didn't know you could cook," she said.

Summer glanced up from her phone briefly and went back to texting.

"Anyone can make spaghetti," Rick said. He plopped a portion on a plate and slid it to Morty, who looked at it and didn't move.

"Eat your food," Rick snapped. "You'll need the energy."

Morty toyed with his food, swirling the pasta on a fork while he sat with one cheek in his hand, leaning his arm on the table.

"Come and g…get it," Rick said, and the rest of the family served themselves.

"You made too much," Summer said.

"Eh, leftovers are good," Rick said. He watched Morty as the boy didn't eat, swirling the food listlessly with his fork. When they finished Rick packed a plate and took it with him. No one noticed but Morty.

Rick opened the hatch and called down to Jerry. "Hey shithead! You hungry?"

A whimper told him that he wasn't going to get much out of Jerry. "Oh calm down already. I t…told you that if I was going to kill you you'd be dead already. Even you should have f…figured that out by now."

"What are you going to do with him?" Rick heard behind him.

He spun, almost dropping the plate while he reached for his pistol with the other hand. "Jesus, Morty, learn to knock already."

"Bite me," Morty said.

"You are creepy as sh…shit sometimes, you know that?" Rick asked. "I told you not to worry about Jerry."

"Yeah, well, I almost killed him, so…"

"So nothing. You…urp…did something dumb, I got you out of it, and that's it. Learn a lesson and move on to other hopefully less dumb things. I don't need you underfoot."

"Whatever," Morty said. "You don't know what to d…do with him either, do you?"

"I have a plan," Rick said. "I'm going to keep him here a few days, long enough to s…scare him, then I'm going to give him a ticket to L.A."

"L.A.? He'll die there."

"He might," Rick said, "or he might not. We'll…urp… we'll see. It's more than he deserves."

Beth didn't mention the alteration with Jerry, but she checked on Summer and Morty nervously when she came home, looking for signs of trauma.

Summer was texting, and she barely acknowledged her Mother's presence. Morty was frowning at his math homework and Beth ruffled his hair.

"Mom! Stop," Morty said, patting his hair back in place.

"Sorry honey," Beth said. "How are you doing?"

"Ok, I guess," Morty said.

"You can talk to me you know," Beth said.

"N…nothing to talk about," Morty said.

She found herself waiting expectantly for Parabola to come home. When she did, Beth met her at the door with a soft kiss, not needy but grateful and welcoming.

Parabola smelled vaguely like Tex-Mex food, and Beth nuzzled her neck. "I'm so glad you're back," she said. "I missed you."

As Parabola showered Beth fixed coffee for them both. She didn't even really like coffee that much, but it had become her and Parabola's "thing", a sort of ritual for them. She and Jerry hadn't had anything like that. There had been the quick "romance", the unexpected pregnancy, and then the quick wedding. After that they had been focused on Summer, work, finances, everything but each other.

 _I can do it right this time,_ Beth thought.

Summer came in for her pre-bedtime drink, and Beth patted the table. "Why don't you sit down and talk to me?"

Summer looked at her suspiciously. "About what? Am I in trouble?"

"Of course not, dear. I just want to talk to you."

Summer shrugged and sat down.

"So…er…how are things?" Beth asked.

"Fine," Summer said.

"Are you doing well in school?" Beth asked, trying to remember what it had been like to talk to Summer easily. It had been years.

"I guess," Summer said.

Beth tried to think about anything they might have in common, but she drew a blank. _What do teens like now?_ She wondered.

"I like the new shoes," she said, trying to buy time.

Summer suddenly smiled, her eyes lighting up. "Really? I got them at that little boutique on 4th street. They were half off. Can you believe that? They're Jimmy Choo Web Booties. Can you believe I found them at half off? They were only $50."

"You got Jimmy Choos for $50?" Beth asked. "Those are $1000 shoes if they're Jimmy Choo."

"Well, they're Jimmy Choo knockoffs," Summer said, "but no one needs to know that. Someday I'll be able to buy the real thing. I've been saving up. I have about $300 right now."

"Where did you get that kind of money?" her Mother asked.

"I just put half my paycheck aside," Summer said.

"Paycheck? When did you get a job?" Beth asked.

"Mom, I've been working for almost a year now. Where did you think I go after school?"

"I thought you hung out with friends," Beth said. "I guess I've been so tied up in my problems with your father that I didn't pay enough attention to you kids. That's going to change though."

"It's fine," Summer said. "Morty needs attention more than I do. I have friends. He only has Grandpa Rick."

"Yeah," Beth said. "I've been thinking about that, but I don't know what to do about it."

Summer shrugged. "I don't know. If he and Grandpa weren't together I don't think either of them would have anyone."

 _They have me,_ Beth thought, and she was surprised at the surge of jealousy.

Summer's phone beeped, and she began to text quickly. Beth knew their time was over, and when Summer stood and walked out – still texting – she wondered how much the alcohol and Jerry's drama had distracted her from her children.

Parabola came in the kitchen in the pink bathrobe that Summer had leant her, clean and fresh. She sat and sipped at the coffee. Summer hadn't quite left the kitchen, and she stopped and looked Parabola over.

"Pink is a good color for you," she said. "Much better than Dad's colors."

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," Parabola said. "I hope you know I'm not trying to take your father's place."

"We should go shopping," Summer said. "Oh my god, you would look so good in a little tied off flannel number that we sell at the store." She glanced at her mother and smiled, a twisted mischievous grin that reminded Beth of Rick.

"I'll tell you more later. Let's make it a surprise. What size shoe do you wear? What kind of fabric do you like? Oooo. We should put highlights in your hair. This is going to be so fun! I have to get on the computer and look at a few things."

She ran out of the room.

"Wow," Beth said. "I think that's more than I've heard her say at one time in a month. I guess you two are really hitting it off."

"I guess," Parabola said, "or she really likes shopping. I like her. She's a nice girl."

"She is," Beth said. "I hope you two can be close."

"I think we will be," Parabola said. "I don't know about Morty though. He seems so reserved, so detached. I like him, but I get the idea he doesn't want to be close to other people."

"Yes," Beth said. "He doesn't get it from me or Jerry, and my Mother was outgoing. He must get it from his grandfather. Dad doesn't ever bring home friends. I guess some men just stick to themselves."

Parabola looked uneasy.

"What's wrong?" Beth asked.

"Nothing," Parabola said. "I'm just not sure how well you know your father."

"He never let me know him well," Beth said. "I still have hopes. It's been lonely around here since he left. Somehow even though Jerry and I were married I was still lonely."

Parabola smiled and slid a long, delicate finger down Beth's cheek. "You have me now. I hope you don't feel lonely anymore."

"No," Beth said. "I feel like I already know you better than I ever knew Jerry, and we haven't even known each other that long."

"Beth, I care about you. A lot," Parabola said. "I haven't been happy since the Captain abducted me."

As Beth put their cups in the sink Parabola put her arms around her from behind her. "I'm so glad we found each other."

"Let's go to bed," Beth said.

"Sounds good," Parabola said.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning Summer texted her way through breakfast, eating with one hand and texting with the other.

Morty was more observant, at least occasionally. "What's up with you two?" he asked his Mother and Parabola.

"What?" his Mother asked. "Nothing."

"You two look weird, like something h…happened."

"You've never seen me happy before, have you?" Beth asked.

"I guess not," Morty said. "I like it."

"I like it too," Beth said. Parabola watched quietly, and she slipped her hand under the table and took Beth's squeezing it gently.

It was Summer's morning to do the dishes, and Beth waited, hoping that Summer might talk to her. Summer waited until they were alone to say anything.

"So I guess you two finally did it, huh?" she asked.

Beth blushed. " Summer!"

"What? I mean, I figured it would happen. You two aren't exactly subtle."

"Is that a problem?" Beth asked.

"No. It's weird to think about, but it's not bad."

"I'm glad you like Parabola," Beth said. "It's very important to me."

"Better than having Dad around anyway," Summer said.

Morty pretended to leave for school, putting on his backpack and going out for the bus. He would ride it to school and then sneak out to meet Rick at their arranged meeting place. Parabola was leaving with him.

"You know, you're all right," Morty said.

"Thanks Morty," Parabola said. "You're all right too."

There was a hole in the fence at the back of the playground that Morty knew about. Rick had made it so that Morty could get out and meet him. Morty walked two blocks away to the overgrown vacant lot where Rick could land the ship unobserved. The area was mostly abandoned, and Morty waited 30 minutes before he started the long walk home.

It took an hour to get home, and Morty banged on the garage door angrily. "Hey!" he yelled. "You didn't get me. We were s…s…supposed to go to the GirlBot planet. You promised."

"Fuck off Morty," he heard from inside the garage. Rick sounded tired.

"You promised," Morty said.

Rick opened the door. "We'll go another time. It's…urp… not what you think it is though. The Girlbots are all feminists. Not much fun there."

He closed the door in Morty's face, but he didn't lock it, so Morty followed him inside. The Miranda computer was back on the table. Rick had taken it apart and was working on the motherboard.

"I thought you were done with that," Morty said.

"How could I be done with it?" Rick asked. "She's still in there. I'm sure of it. I can fix her."

"Rick, l…let it go," Morty said.

Rick picked up the chip that held Miranda's personality. "I can do it Morty. It just takes time, but I c…can make anything work."

"Whatever Rick. Could you be any creepier?"

"Huh?" Rick asked, pulled out of his dark thoughts. "Are…urp..are you still here?"

Morty rolled his eyes. "Tell me when you want to actually do something."

He left, and Rick picked up a small tool and went back to work.

Saturday Beth and Parabola both had the day off, but Summer got Parabola to go out with her.

"We can spend time together tonight," Beth said. "You and Summer need to get to know each other."

Rick didn't speak through breakfast, which wasn't unusual, but he didn't eat much either, stirring his eggs listlessly with his fork. When he went back to the garage and turned on the computer it started, and he took a deep breath and ran the Miranda program. The face appeared, but it said nothing.

"Good m…morning," Rick said. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," the AI said. "What would you like for breakfast honey?"

"It doesn't matter," Rick said. "How would you like to spend some time together today? We haven't talked much lately."

"I would love that," the AI said, it's soft voice making Rick smile.

"I would too," he said. "There's so much I want to t…tell you."

"I love you Rick," the AI said. The program glitched. "I love you Rick. I love you Rick."

He shut down the program and sat on his cot, staring into the distance.

Morty found him that way an hour later. Rick never looked well, exactly. He was old and generally either drunk, high, or both. But he had dark circles under his eyes, and a haunted look that Morty had seen a few times before.

"You want to do something?" Morty asked.

"No," Rick said. "I don't w…want to do anything today."

Morty glanced at the computer, now put back together and ready for use. "Are you still using that? I thought you gave up on it? She hates you."

"I couldn't get her soul back Morty. I tried. All I got was an AI that t…told me it loves me. A goddamn…urp…AI Morty." He took a pull at the flask.

Morty waited for Rick to say more, but he just stared at the computer.

"Rick. I don't like this," Morty said.

"I don't either," Rick said. "I can't stop. I have to get her back."

"You have other stuff to do," Morty said. "Did you f…feed Dad yet?"

"Huh? He's gone. I told you what I was going to do."

"At least that's one thing done," Morty said. "Let's get out of here."

Rick sighed and stood, cracking his back. "Yeah. I could use s…some fresh air, and I need to go to the liquor store anyway."

Morty convinced him to walk, but he thought that Rick looked even worse in the sunlight. The beautiful day only clashed with his misery. Rick looked pale and clammy.

He left Morty outside while he went into the liquor store, and when he came out he began drinking immediately.

"Morty. Never fall in love," he said. "They…urp…leave you. They all leave you."

"We don't leave," Morty said. "Me and Mom and Summer."

"No," Rick said. "You don't, do you?" He smiled drunkenly. "You're not so bad sometimes. How about we go somewhere?"

"S…sounds good," Morty said.

"You want to go see Ballfondlers being filmed? I know the location?"

"Oh yeah!" Morty said. "I want to get their autographs."

When they went back into the garage Rick took a long drink while he looked at the Miranda computer. He put a cloth over it. "Not one of my b…better ideas," he said.

Beth ran errands, and when she came home Parabola was waiting for her. Summer had talked her into buying jean shorts and a pink flannel shirt that she had tied off to show her midriff. It was the belly ring that drew the most attention.

"You look amazing," Beth said.

"I feel kind of silly," Parabola said.

Beth stepped close to her, running her hand along Parabola's waist. "You don't look silly. You and Summer should go shopping more often."

"We had fun," Parabola said. "I learned a lot more about Darren, Sara, and Tommy at her school than I ever wanted to know, but we had fun."

The next morning Morty noticed the Miranda computer in the trash as he waited for the bus. When Rick picked him up at their arranged spot he seemed more normal, or as normal as Rick got.

Beth had to jump through some legal hoops to get the divorce without Jerry's signature on the divorce papers, but as soon as she did she felt free.

Morty came home to find a note from his Mother. "Have to work late. Heat a TV dinner tonight. Love, Mom."

Morty was used to a few meals a week without her, but he usually didn't have the entire house to himself. He listened to the clock ticking loudly in the silent house, enjoying the lack of drama for once.

He heard the front door close and sighed, hoping it was Summer. She was easier to deal with than his Mother or Rick.

Parabola stuck her head in the kitchen. "Hey Morty. Where is everyone?"

"Gone I guess," he said. "Want some dinner? I was going to put lasagna in the microwave."

She nodded and he put it on to cook. As they sat at the table he picked at his food.

"Something wrong?" Parabola asked.

"No," Morty said. "Yes. I just don't know what to d…do about it."

"Can I help?" Parabola asked.

Morty chewed slowly, pulling a bit of burned cheese out of his mouth. "I have a friend that's – I don't know – s…sick or something, and I don't know how to help him."

"What's wrong with your friend?" Parabola asked.

"He…he had something bad happen to him, and he's messed up. I mean, he's always messed up, but he's more messed up than usual. I've never s…seen him this bad."

"Does he know you want to help him?" Parabola asked.

"Yes, but he's weird. He won't let people help him."

"Rick is an unusual person," Parabola said.

"I didn't say it was R…Rick!" Morty said.

"You didn't need to. I know that you think he's your only friend."

"Don't say anything. He'd be really angry if the thought I was talking about him."

"I won't. I don't know how you could help him. I don't know him well, but I've heard stories about him, and I think his past is too complicated for a simple fix."

"Yeah," Morty said. "He doesn't even want me involved. I just hate s…seeing him like this. He's always weird, but he did something that really worries me."

"I don't know what to tell you. Just being there is helpful."

"I guess," Morty said, beginning to eat again.

"Morty, can I ask you something?" Parabola asked.

"Ok?" Morty said, suspiciously.

"I've heard a lot about Rick, but the source wasn't dependable. Is he a good man?"

Morty snorted a quick laugh. "No."

"Oh," Parabola said. "That's not what I expected."

"He isn't really bad either," Morty said. "He just sort of…is."

"But the things I've heard," Parabola said.

"He does a lot of bad st…stuff," Morty said, "but he doesn't usually mean for bad things to happen. They just sort of do. I don't think he puts that much thought into it. Bad things just happen around him, and he sort of goes with it."

"Then he hasn't killed a lot of people?" Parabola asked.

"Yeah, but it wasn't that simple," Morty said. "I mean, there were some t…times that it happened because he doesn't five a fuck, but usually…," he stopped. "Ok, look, he's not a great guy, but he's my grandfather and I love him. I hate him sometimes, but I love him. He m…might even be a really bad p…person sometimes, but I still love him."

"I see," Parabola said. "From what I've seen since living here I think I might have misjudged him. He seems to care more than I would have thought."

"He has his moments," Morty said. "I wish he'd n…never come back, but I'd miss him if he was gone."

Morty packed up the leftover lasagna and put it in the fridge. "Do you love my Mom?" he asked.

"Yes."

"That's good," Morty said. "Dad was bad to her. I like you."

"I like you too Morty. You're a good kid."

Morty stopped and stared at her, holding eye contact until she squirmed uncomfortably. "No I'm not," Morty said. "You don't kn…know me very well or you wouldn't say that."

He left before she could reply, but she didn't know what to say to that.

She made love to Beth again that night, not shyly as before, but with the confidence of trust.

Morty waited until 2 am, the hour he knew Rick would either be working out roaming the universe. He knocked at the garage door, half hoping that he wouldn't answer.

"What?" Rick asked.

"I just wanted to see how you're doing. You've b…been kind of weird lately."

Rick grunted. "So…urp…what? What's it to you?"

"I dunno. You want to do something?"

"Since when do you want to go on an adventure?" Rick asked. "You always whine like a b…baby whenever I take you anywhere."

"I do not!" Morty said. "I just don't like g…getting nearly killed. You're used to that. I'm not."

"Ah, cry me a river," Rick muttered.

"You know, I don't know why I try. You've been messed up every since you dug up my grandmother."

"I know," Rick said.

"And I ought to…" Morty stopped. "You know?"

'Yes, and there's nothing you c…can do. There isn't anything I can do either. Some things just take time. She was a beautiful woman, Morty. Kind, generous. What you…urp…what you saw at the end, that wasn't her. It was just a shadow of the woman I loved."

Rick picked up his portal gun. "Every woman since Miranda was just a diversion. All of them but Unity, and I ruined her life."

Rick made a portal. "Enough of this. L…let's get out of here. I had something I needed to…urp…do tonight anyway."

Morty stepped through the portal into a carnival. He looked at Rick suspiciously. "A carnival Rick? What are you up to?"

"What? A man can't have some wholesome fun with his gr…grandson? You're so cynical."

"Why are we really here Rick?" Morty asked.

"Turkey legs. Why else?" Rick asked.

Morty saw a Groflemite leaning against a wall near the batting cage. He was eating cotton candy, his proboscis moving swiftly.

"Is that Klombopulos Michael?" Morty asked.

"Is it?" Rick asked.

"You know it is. We came here so you could m…meet him, didn't we?"

"Go ride the carousel or get ripped off at a game," Rick said. "I need to do a little…urp…business."

"Are you going to pay him to assassinate someone?" Morty asked.

"Jeez Morty, say it a little louder why don't you? Don't worry about it. I'll be back."

Rick walked away without waiting for an answer, and Morty watched as Krombopulos Michael slipped him a piece of paper. Rick handed over a bag, and they shook hands and parted. Rick walked back scowling as he read the paper.

"Well that sucks, but at least it's over," he said. "I figured out who made that M…Miranda-droid-clone-thing, and I paid Krombopulos Michael to track them down for me."

"Who is it?" Morty asked.

"Was," Rick said. "Someone who died a long time ago. An old enemy. He died of space herpes. I didn't even get to kill him." Rick took a long drag off the flask. "Sucks, huh? I guess it's cl…closure though – sort of. At least I know now."

"So is that why you've been so weird?" Morty asked.

"You're one to talk," Rick said.

"If you're done, can we go h…home now?" Morty asked. "I wanted to do something fun, not contact an assassin."

"Oh keep your pants on, whiny baby. Look, turkey legs!"

Before Morty could say anything Rick was heading into the carnival, his long legs carrying him swiftly toward his prey. By the time Morty caught up with him he was happily eating a roasted turkey leg so large that Morty thought it must come off a turkey the size of a cow.

"Have a bite," Rick said, wiping grease off his face.

Morty bit into the rick meat. "What kind of turkey makes a leg this b…big?" Morty asked.

Rick pointed to the side of the truck, where a cartoon drawing of a birdlike beast was roasting over a fire. It looked like it was part bird, part reptile, but it had eight legs and was breathing fire.

"That's not a turkey," Morty said.

"Turkeysaurus," Rick said. "G…genetically engineered for entertainment and food on Phabus 3. You want to go watch a…urp…turkey race?"

"Yeah!" Morty said. "Wait, is there some trick? Are we going to buy drugs or fight someone?"

"No. Would you…urp…chill for a bit?"

Rick found an out of the way place and cast a portal. Morty was relieved to step into a race track that would have looked completely at place on Earth, if it wasn't for the alien spectators and the monsters on the track.

Morty leaned on the fence and watched the awkward turkeysaurs as they scrabbled toward the finish line. Rick looked down at him and ruffled his hair fondly.

They returned hours later with Morty carrying a turkeysaur shaped balloon, and Rick wearing a blue hat with a silhouette of a racing turkeysaur.

A haunting song in another language drifted from the kitchen. Rick held a hand up. "Quiet," he whispered.

He moved stealthily down the hallway, and when he leaned around the corner he saw Parabola washing dishes and singing quietly to herself. Beth sat at the table watching Parabola with a wistful smile and a faraway look.

Rick backed away and motioned for Morty to move back to the garage. "It's just Parabola," he said. "Reminds me of how Miranda used to sing around the house. Nice to have something like that around again. Let's give them some t…time alone."

When Parabola finished she turned and saw Beth for the first time. "I didn't know you were there," she said. She flushed.

"Don't be embarrassed," Beth said. "I like your singing. It makes me feel peaceful. You make me feel peaceful, and we need peace in this house more than anything."


End file.
